


Two Hunters, An Angel, and Sin City

by Huntress69



Series: Two Hunters and An Angel [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel!Stress, Established Relationship, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-25
Updated: 2013-03-25
Packaged: 2017-12-06 11:43:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/735262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Huntress69/pseuds/Huntress69
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The trio road trip to Las Vegas, where Jimmy's past comes back to haunt Castiel</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two Hunters, An Angel, and Sin City

**Author's Note:**

> 1) I gave Jimmy Novak a backstory  
> 2) The music of Guns N Roses is featured in this fic, and **Leverage** gets a mention, because I felt like it.

**Disclaimer: Why disclaim, I ask. I make no money from my writings, and I am sure that neither Dean, Sam or Castiel have any objections to the positions I put them in.**

**************

"Give it back to me," Castiel pouted.

"No," Dean sneered. "You don't need it, and you can't have it, so there!"

"What's going on?" Sam had just returned from the laundromat, his eyes ping-ponging from his brother to the angel. 

"Why did you go out to do laundry?" Bobby asked, clearly frustrated. "I have a perfectly good washer and dryer, which I got after getting rid of a poltergeist in an appliance store."

"We had too much." For a moment Sam was certain Dean and Castiel were going to come to blows. "Now, could you please tell me what's going on?"

"They've been at it for a half hour." Bobby rolled his eyes. "I'm tempted to smack them both."

"What did Dean take?" Sam stalked over to Dean and frowned. "What did you take from him?"

"This!" Dean held up Castiel's overcoat. "It's beaten and worn, it smells, and he has other clothes now thanks to Bobby so he doesn't need it."

"I want it." Castiel grabbed one end of the coat.

"You can't have it; it makes you look like a Columbo reject or a deranged accountant or, or..." Dean grabbed the other end and pulled back, "...a flasher."

***RIIIPPP***

"MY COAT!" Castiel gritted his teeth and raised his hand at Dean. 

"What are you gonna do?" Dean taunted. "Smite me? Give it your best shot!"

"NO!" Sam grabbed Castiel's hand and shoved it down. "With your luck you'll take out a wall."

Castiel picked up the remnants of the overcoat. "I will never forgive you for this, Dean." He sat down, staring at both pieces, looking close to tears. 

"So you don't have the coat." Sam tried to cheer him up. "But you still have your shirt, pants, tie...."

"Ugly-ass tie," Dean murmured.

"Shut up Dean!"

"Dean threw them away," Castiel said sadly. "And the trash has already been collected."

Sam glared at Dean, heaving a sigh.

"He's got new stuff; he didn't need them." Dean shrugged. "They were all worn, like the coat."

"You don't understand." Castiel shook his head, holding the coat close to his chest. "They were all I had left of Jimmy Novak; now I have nothing."

If looks could kill, then what Dean saw in Sam's and Bobby's eyes would have fried him to a crisp. "I didn't know," he whispered. 

"You didn't think," Bobby chastised.

Dean walked to him, placing his hand on Castiel's shoulder. "Cas, I...."

Castiel stared at him. "Do not call me **Cas** ever again." He stood up and threw the pieces on the floor, walking outside with his head bowed.

"I'm sorry," Dean said. "I swear I am."

Sam knew Dean meant it; his brother was rarely remorseful about anything. "Then tell **him** that, Dean, not us."

"I will." Dean followed him out and Sam nearly laughed.

"I've heard some of Dean's apologies," he said to Bobby. 

"Oh yeah," Bobby agreed. "He's either going to be forgiven or dig himself a deeper hole."

**~~~~~~~~**

"Castiel, it was just some clothing." Dean was trying to be reasonable. "If you don't want Bobby's hand-me-downs, we'll get you brand new clothes from a store."

"Where is your leather jacket, Dean?" Castiel asked. "When I first met you, you practically...lived in it."

"What does that have to do with anything?" 

"You have not worn it since I...showed up."

"I don't wear it anymore because it's falling apart," Dean explained.

"Perhaps I should give it away, since you do not make use of it any longer," Castiel told him. "You can always buy a new one."

"Don't even think about touching that jacket, Castiel," Dean clearly warned him. "It was my Dad's and if you...." He paused mid-sentence.

"It's not a simple piece of clothing, is it, Dean?"

Dean wiped his hands over his face, finally understanding. "I'm sorry, Cas...Castiel."

"Your apology is irrelevant," the angel replied, his voice cold. 

"Well, fuck you too!" Dean snapped. "I should have known better than to try to apologize to an ignorant angel!"

"And I should have left you in Perdition!" Castiel's eyes grew wide the second after the words were said. 

Dean stared at him for just a moment before silently turning and walking away. 

"DEAN!" Castiel ran after him, grabbed him by the shoulder and spun him around. "I didn't mean those words and if I could take them back, I would." He was shoved away as Dean continued walking. 

Returning to the house, Dean went upstairs without saying a word.

"I'm going to assume," Bobby drawled, "that they both dug a deep hole, Sammy."

"But whose hole is deeper?" Sam thought aloud. "And it's Sam."

"I used to clean up your shitty diapers," Bobby laughed, "and I'll call you anything I damn well please."

Five minutes later Dean came down with two duffels, went out and tossed them in the trunk. "Get in the car, Sam."

Sam nearly refused, but too much had happened in the past few days and he couldn't allow Dean to leave on his own. "Bobby, you'll watch out for Castiel, right?"

"Sam, I have to head down to Taos tonight," Bobby told him. "I won't be back for a while."

Castiel chose that moment to return, hearing the exchange. "You are leaving me?"

"Get in the car, Sam, or I leave without you." Dean got in and opened the passenger side door. " **Now**."

"I cannot be alone." Castiel flat-out said. "There is nobody but you."

"Why don't you just call on one of your holier-than-thou buddies," Dean growled. 

"I can't!" Castiel screamed. "None of them know...." 

"What?" Dean sneered. "None of them know you're an asswipe?"

"Nobody knows he's here." Sam turned his eyes on Castiel, and judging by the look on the angel's face, he was right. "They don't know where you went, do they, Castiel? Not God, not the other angels...you came on your own."

"You are correct, Samuel...Sam," Castiel replied softly. "I had to tell someone I was leaving, and I chose Zachariah. It was a mistake, I know that now."

"Just suck it up and call for help," Bobby suggested.

"I don't think he can," Sam said. "If he does that, he'll be in a mess of trouble."

"An angel is forbidden from walking the Earth without a human consciousness," Castiel explained. "With Jimmy no longer in here, I was forbidden to return unless you were in mortal danger of dying before your time."

"Because as our guardian," Sam nodded, "that's your duty."

"From what I know about the research I did a couple of years back on angels, he'll be cast out of Heaven," Bobby told them, "and there is only one other place for him then, and it's not here."

Dean paled; angry as he was, that was the last thing he wanted to happen. "Get in the car."

"Dean, now is not the time to...." Sam started to say.

Dean cut him off. "Both of you, in the car." He narrowed his eyes at Castiel. "You say one word to me and you **will** be on your own."

Castiel was silent as he got into the back seat, while Dean started the engine. 

"We're gonna miss you...Uncle Bobby," Sam grinned, giving him a hug.

"You just make sure they don't kill each other, Sammy." Bobby waved as the Impala disappeared. "If you manage it, Sam, you're a better man than I."

**~~~~~~~~**

They were in the car no more than 15 minutes when Castiel leaned forward, a small smile on his face. "Dean, I know I cannot take the words back, but I am very sorry."

"You said it, that was enough." Dean gripped the steering wheel, grinding his teeth.

"You say words you don't mean to Sam and he forgives you," Castiel pointed out. "So why can't you forgive me?"

"Would somebody tell **me** what was said?" Sam asked, feeling in the dark.

"He said he should have left me in Perdition!" Dean turned around as he shouted. "If Bobby wasn't going anywhere, I would have left your ass and...."

"DEAN!" Sam screamed and grabbed the wheel before they swerved into another car. He glared at Dean as Dean turned back. "Would you please keep your eyes on the road? I don't want to become a FUCKING TRAFFIC FATALITY!"

Dean was still fuming, blasted the radio, and continued to drive. He went for four hours straight, and when Sam requested they stop for a bathroom break, Dean told him to hold it in, which was the **only** thing he said. 

When Dean finally stopped to get gas, both Sam and Castiel made a mad dash for the bathroom; Dean just pee'd in the bushes. When the two came out of the men's room, Dean was glaring at them and flat out stated if they hadn't come out, he was abandoning them both.

Sam knew he wouldn't have done that, but Castiel was another story. The angel swore up and down that he would make his "bladder behave" for the remainder of the ride.

This time Dean didn't stop for six hours, except for gas, and it was only the fact that his stomach was growling and the gas tank on empty that he stopped in South Wyoming. He went into the 7-11 for taquitos, and Sam and Castiel followed, getting the same. When they came out, Sam had had enough.

"Okay, Dean, this stops **now**." He grabbed Dean's bag of food and held it out of his brother's reach. "We have just spent 10 hours in the car, and hearing _Moby Dick_ 17 times was about 14 times too many. Do you understand me?" Dean reached for the bag but Sam held it higher. "Am I making myself clear?"

"Yeah, Sam," Dean nodded. "Now I'm tired, so give me my FUCKING FOOD OR I'M GONNA PUNCH YOUR LIGHTS OUT!"

Sam made it a point to smush the bag before he gave it back, and the three sat outside eating. 

When they were done, Castiel eyed the motel. "This is where we'll be sleeping?"

"I'm getting a room." Sam walked inside, and they watched him chat up the desk clerk and get a key. 

"What room, Sam?" Dean asked. 

"I don't know where **you** are going to be," Sam happily told them both, "but I am in room 216. **I** intend to get some rest tonight." He took his own duffel out of the car, but paused for a moment, put it down, and hugged his brother. "Have fun getting your own room." He laughed as he walked upstairs. 

"Fine," Dean huffed. "I'll get my own."

"What about me?" Castiel asked. 

"You can sleep in the car." Dean went inside to get himself a room and reached for his wallet to pay, but it was gone. He searched all his pockets then went out to the car, but it was nowhere to be found. "What the fuck?"

"Hey!" Sam called from the second floor catwalk. "If you're ready to be civil, I'll give this back!" He waved Dean's wallet in the air. 

Dean gaped at him. "Little bastard picked my pocket!"

"Then we are sleeping in the car?" Castiel asked.

"I'm sleeping in the car; you can sleep on the sidewalk!" Dean was still angry, got in and locked the doors, stretched his legs as best he could, folded his arms, leaned against the door and closed his eyes, half expecting Castiel to come knocking on the window. But instead of paying full attention to the angel, Dean fell asleep.

**~~~~~~~~**

Dean woke up an hour later to the sound of rain battering down on the window; it was teeming. "Great," he murmured, then smirked. "At least I'm not outside like...." The smirk faltered. "Castiel." Dean didn't hesitate, uncaring about the rain, and got out of the car, looking around. "Oh shit, I lost an angel." It took Dean a few minutes to find him, huddled in a small alcove, barely shielded from the rain. 

Castiel had been wearing nothing but a tee-shirt and jeans and was curled up, knees raised to his chest, and shivering. 

Dean knelt down and tried to lift him to his feet, but Castiel shook his head. "Leave me be."

"No martyring today." Dean forcibly got him up and dragged him to Sam's room, pounding on the door. "Sammy, open the door."

"Only if you apologize," came the flippant response.

"OPEN IT NOW GODDAMIT!"

Sam opened the door, ready to give Dean a verbal thrashing. "Look, Dean...."

Dean shoved his way in holding on to Castiel. "Turn on the shower, hot water, and do it quickly!"

"What happened, Dean?"

"Just do it, Sam!" While Sam obeyed, Dean set about taking off both his and Castiel's clothing, and once Sam exited the bathroom he dragged the shaking angel into the hot shower. "I'm going to have you warmed up in no time, Cas." 

"I told you n-not to c-call me that." But despite his words, Castiel allowed himself to be held. 

Dean ignored him and laid Castiel's head on his shoulder. "Cas, don't you know well enough to come in out of the rain?"

"I am still c-c-cold," he stammered. 

"You're going to be fine," Dean soothed.

After a moment, Castiel finally raised his head. "Why did you....?"

"I was angry, and I was stupid, and yeah, I admit it. And I'm sorry, Cas, I really am." 

"As am I." Castiel gave him a wan smile and shut the water off, he and Dean getting out and drying off. "You are a good man, Dean Winchester, and I would raise you again if need be, I promise you."

"I know you would, and I'd do the same." Dean leaned in for a chaste kiss. "You okay now?"

"Yes." Castiel smirked, and backed Dean out of the bathroom, letting both their towels drop in full view of Sam. "But I will feel much better if we go to bed."

"I'm just going to go and put your wet clothes in the dryer," Sam smiled, "and leave you with some privacy."

"You watched before, Sammy," Dean said, "you can stay now."

"We can all have sex together." Castiel was so matter-of-fact about it that Sam turned pink. "You are embarrassed, Sam." The angel was quite calm. "There was a time when the act of sex was not something to be ashamed of."

"One-on-one is, er, one thing," Sam stammered, "and threesomes may have worked back in Sodom, but...."

"This was after Sodom; it was a different vessel I had, in Rome." Castiel sighed, lost in a brief (and obviously happy) memory. "During one gladiator match, I was in a balcony seat with a lovely redheaded woman and a man who was quite flexible. They did each other, and then I did each, then the three of us...."

"I don't care!" Sam snapped. "I don't want to hear about other people, other men, other women - I just don't CARE!"

"I'm sorry, Sam," Castiel said, "I thought you wanted to hear...."

"Cas," Dean explained, "talking about other lovers when you're with somebody else just isn't...proper."

"But they weren't lovers," Castiel explained, reaching into Dean's duffel and putting on a pair of sweatpants. "They were just people I had sexual relations with. I believed there to be a difference between sex and making love. I did not care for any of them, not like I...." He stopped talking and walked to one of the beds. "I am going to sleep now." He covered himself and turned over. 

"You know what, I'm going to sleep too." Sam stripped down to his boxers and crawled into the other bed.

"I guess I'll go use a dryer," Dean said to the air. 

"Use fabric softener, Dean," Sam told him.

"I like the one that has the bear on the package," Castiel added.

Dean huffed as he threw on jeans, pulled Sam's hoodie over his head, gathered the wet clothing and stomped out of the room. Two dryer loads later he returned to the room, half expecting to see the other two awake and maybe watching TV. What he found was Sam in bed with Castiel, the two sleeping peacefully. "I hate you both," he whispered to himself, stripping down and getting into the other bed. "Tomorrow we'll be in Vegas, and then the real fun begins."

**~~~~~~~~**

Dean was woken to Sam's soft moaning from the other bed. He cracked an eye open to see Sam lying there, but Castiel was buried under the covers, clearly between Sam's legs. Smirking, he got up, walked over, and pulled the covers off the two of them. He did a double-take, because the two were not naked, and Castiel appeared to be massaging Sam's leg.

"He's great, Dean," Sam grinned. "I had a _Charlie horse_ and Castiel massaged it right out."

"You would not have gotten a leg cramp if you would sleep in one position," Castiel pointed out. "You eventually ceased moving and curled up like a pretzel."

"Well if certain angels wouldn't have whined about being cold, I would have slept peacefully by myself," Sam shot back.

"You wouldn't have slept alone, Sammy," Dean smiled.

"Yes I would have, Dean, because you would have been on the floor."

Dean ignored him. "Let's get going boys and girls!" He went to the bathroom. "Las Vegas awaits!" 

"There are no girls here," Castiel stated, confused. 

"Figure of speech, Castiel," Dean closed the bathroom door.

"I need to brush my teeth, Sam," Castiel whined. "My mouth tastes like sawdust."

"Dean, you take more than five minutes...." Sam yelled at the closed door.

The door opened a minute later. "I wanted to take a leak in peace." 

Castiel and Sam ran for the bathroom and the angel got there first, closing the door, but opening it shortly after. "You may relieve yourself, Sam."

Five minutes after that, the three were all in the small bathroom, vying for the mirror.

Dean was brushing his teeth and Sam was trying to shave, while Castiel got in between them, staring at his face. "I think I have a wrinkle."

"It's the stress, Cas," Dean told him. "We'll get you Botox."

"Get out of the way." Sam pushed them both aside. "I hate five o'clock shadow."

"I think it makes you look sexy," Dean cracked.

"I think it makes me look like a bum," Sam answered, sliding the razor down his face. Castiel reached for the toothpaste and bumped into Sam's arm, causing Sam to nick himself. "Now I'll bleed to death and it'll be on your head."

"You are being overly theatric, Sam," Castiel sighed. "I am not shaving; I think I enjoy looking like a bum."

They finally got washed and dressed and packed up, and Castiel made himself at home in the front seat. 

"Get out," Sam told him. "I don't have enough leg room in the back."

"You said I could have the front when we were at Robert's," Castiel said, pulling a pout. 

"I changed my mind, so unless you want to be strapped to the hood, I suggest you move."

"You are mean, Sam." Castiel frowned. "I do not think I like you much anymore."

"Oh really." Sam narrowed his eyes. "How about I drive?"

"Then I can sit in the front?"

Sam smirked at Dean, and nodded to Castiel. "Be my guest."

Dean got into the back and shut his eyes tightly. "I can't watch."

"I don't understand," Castiel turned to him, wanting an answer.

"You will, Castiel, you will."

**~~~~~~~~**

"Sam, the speed limit sign says 65, yet you are going," Castiel glanced at the speedometer, "over 110."

Sam swerved around an RV. "Yep."

Castiel whimpered as Sam zig-zagged in between various tractor trailers. "Are we going to die?"

"Anything's possible." Sam cut-off one of the large trucks. "The day is young."

Castiel turned in his seat and reached for Dean, grabbing him by the shirt. "DO SOMETHING!"

"I am," Dean replied calmly, keeping his eyes shut. "I'm not looking."

"May I have a tranquilizer?" Castiel asked. "Perhaps a half dozen?"

Dean opened one eye. "Sorry, we need to conserve them for injuries." He saw Sam tailgating a van and shut it quickly, then began to hum _Highway to Hell_.

Sam cackled on purpose, drove onto the side of the road, shot around another truck and cut across all four lanes, then back again. 

Castiel's eyes grew wide as saucers. "Please, Sam, slow down a little bit."

"No." Sam saw the police car in the rear view mirror. "Now we're really going to have fun." He sped up, the cop doing the same, pulled off the next exit with the cop behind him and slowed, pulling over. 

The cop got out of his car and when he was inches away from the Impala, Sam hit the gas, ran a red light and pulled back onto the interstate. He got off at the very next exit and pulled over into a group of trees, watching the cop car fly past them. "That was fun."

"Are we dead?" Dean asked.

"Not yet," Sam replied, laughing again.

"Good." Dean got out of the back, opened the driver's side door, pulled Sam out and shoved him against the side of the car. "If you ever do that again...."

"He deserves a lecture on his driving," Castiel stated. 

"I don't care about the driving," Dean replied, focusing back on Sam. "I don't want the car impounded again because of you. Breaking into those impound yards to steal her back is a bitch."

"Okay, Dean," Sam slowly nodded. 

"Good." Dean let him go. "We should make Vegas in six hours instead of eight."

"You are going to allow him to keep driving?" Castiel was shaking his head. "Please don't do that."

"Sammy's never had an accident." Dean just shrugged. "But I think he's set some sort of world record for speeding tickets since he first got his license."

"34 of them," Sam added proudly. "My top speed is 193 in a stolen Ferrari."

"I like this vessel." The color drained from Castiel's face. "I do not wish for it to be crushed in a car wreck."

"You can sit in the back with me, if you want," Dean told him.

"Wouldn't the trunk be safer?" Castiel asked, quite seriously.

"If you're not happy," Sam fought another giggle, "just spread your wings and fly."

"I do not fly, Sam, so I will take my chances in the back seat." Castiel got in, Dean beside him. "This will be safer, I am sure."

Sam just got back in and started the engine. "You might **feel** safer, Castiel, but will you be?" He pealed out, quite satisfied with himself.

They were back on the road no more than five minutes and Castiel had his face buried in Dean's shoulder. 

"You okay, Cas?"

Castiel raised his eyes. "I...." He was clearly thinking. "In case of anything, I want to say...I...I love you, Dean."

"I know." Dean stole a quick kiss. "And we're not going to die, I promise you." 

"It is a good feeling." Castiel ducked his head. "I have never experienced it before."

"Never in 6000 years?" Dean asked. 

"Not from those who knew I was an angel of the Lord."

Dean drew him in for another kiss. "There's a first time for everything." He pulled Castiel's head to his lap and stroked his hair. "If you want, I could read to you." He picked up a book from the floor. "Treasure Island." 

"No one has ever read to me."

"First times, Cas, first times."

**~~~~~~~~**

Within four hours the book was done and Castiel was smiling like a little kid; Dean was bitching about getting to a hotel and Sam was glad they had hit the outskirts of Las Vegas an hour earlier than expected. 

Sam was also happy Castiel had not seen him driving; the angel would have most certainly had a cardiac arrest. He pulled into a rest area to get coffee and gas, and so they could all have a bathroom break. 

As they walked towards the rest rooms, Dean saw a charter bus parking around back and turned to Sam. "Sammy, why do I know the name of Alfred Rowan?" 

"He's that Reverend who keeps preaching that homosexuality is a sin, and that God is, and I quote, _'sending all faggots to the deepest bowels of Hell'_." Sam snickered. "Why?"

"Nothing." When they came out of the bathroom, Dean sent Sam for coffee while he brought Castiel over to the bus. He saw one man standing beside it. "Where can I find the right Reverend Rowan?"

"That would be me," the man smiled. "How can I help you two young men?"

"Just wanted to give you an eyeful." Dean grabbed Castiel by the shirt and gave him the deepest and most passionate kiss he could muster. When he came up for air, the angel was gasping for a breath. Turning back to the preacher, he shrugged. "What do you think of that?"

"I think," the Reverend Rowan sneered, "that God is sending you and your perverted kind to Hell."

"I do not understand," Castiel said. "God sends no one to Hell. Only those that are destined go there."

"You are both destined." The Reverend glared at them.

"Castiel, let me tell you about the **Reverend** here." Dean whispered in his ear and Castiel's eyes grew wider and wider. 

When Dean stopped, Castiel faced the preacher. "God does not frown on men who lay with other men. You should not be spreading rumors and lies."

"The bible states that...."

Castiel cut him off. "The bible, neither the old or new testaments, says anything of that sort." 

"YOU WILL BURN IN HELL FOR YOUR PERVERSITIES!"

"As my friend here would say," Castiel inhaled sharply, "not a chance." He got in the preacher's face. "And consider this a warning. Should you not cease in your lies, you will receive a...one-way ticket to Perdition." The angel narrowed his eyes. "I shall see to it **personally**." At that last word, Castiel's wings spread out. "Have I made myself clear?"

Reverend Rowan stared at the wings...and promptly fainted.

Castiel hid his wings quickly and faced Dean, holding up his palm. "Would this be the proper moment to...'high-five'...each other?"

Dean smacked his hand and grinned. "You're amazing, Cas."

"Does this mean I get another kiss?" 

"Horny angel, aren't you?"

"I enjoy your kisses, Dean." Castiel closed his eyes, licked his lips, and leaned forward. "They send a tingle down my spine."

The lips that kissed his were not Dean's; Sam had put the coffee cups down, got in between them, and kissed the angel himself. "I saw what you did," he grinned, "and if it were anyone else, you'd be in a shitload of trouble."

Castiel stared at the unconscious preacher. "I will never understand those that preach hatred. My Father gets thoroughly disgusted with these kinds of religious fanatics, yet does not smite them."

"Don't try to understand the human race, Castiel," Sam said, handing him a cup of coffee. "You'll only get a migraine."

"Will we be in _Sin City_ soon?" Castiel asked. "I have never been there, but from what I saw on the television, it is as if Sodom and Gomorrah were rolled into one."

"About 20 minutes," Sam reassured him. "And I'll even drive like a normal person, just for you."

**~~~~~~~~**

They checked into the Holiday Inn and Castiel decided he was thirsty, so Sam gave him money to get a soda. 

Castiel wandered out to the vending machine, oblivious to the fact that two men were staring at him. 

"It's Joe Novacelli," the smaller of the two murmured.

"Novacelli's dead, remember?" The other one said. "We took care of him after his testimony. I set the car bomb myself!"

"Then who's that?"

"Oh fuck! This time I put a bullet in him."

Thug number one, who went by the name of Martin, drew his gun and took a shot while Castiel was getting his soda,

Castiel bent down to get the can when he heard a ***pop*** and the soda machine began to spit out change. "Hmm, even the food dispensers give out prizes here." He gathered up the quarters and returned to the room.

"You missed him!" Thug number two, who went by the name of Albert, growled.

Martin raised his gun to take another shot, but Castiel disappeared into a room. "We gotta call Mister Ropp and tell him the snitch is still breathing."

**~~~~~~~~**

"Where'd you get all that?" Dean asked, staring at the pile of change.

"I put in the money and not only did I receive my Pepsi, I also received these." Castiel perked up. "This is a lucky town."

"Okay," Dean was jumping up and down, very excited, "we are hitting a casino." 

"My grace is not functioning properly, Dean," Castiel reminded him. "I don't know if I can assist you at the gaming tables."

"I'm sure you have enough left in you just for me," Dean told him. "Just remember 7 and 11."

Castiel brightened. "We are getting Slurpees and taquitos again?"

"This should be fun," Sam laughed as they headed out.

**~~~~~~~~**

They entered the casino and Dean tried to pull Castiel with him.

Castiel looked around. "I have quarters," he pointed to a one-armed bandit, "and would like to do those."

"We're going to the craps table," Dean insisted.

"Okay," Castiel said sadly, staring at the machines he so wanted to play. "May I play with them afterwards? Please?"

Sam pulled his brother aside. "Aww, Dean, let him play something; he deserves to. He'll lose his money and then he'll help you out."

"Fine." Dean stomped off to the tables, while Castiel took a seat, looking to Sam for assistance.

"Just put the quarter in and pull the lever," Sam explained.

"That is easy enough." Castiel did just that, and hit three cherries, watching the change spill out. "I win."

"Yeah, you do," Sam nodded, gathering the change into a bucket. "Well, keep going, have fun." He figured after a few minutes Castiel would be cleaned out - that was not the case.

Castiel kept hitting three of the same and his one bucket of change had grown to five. "I like this game." 

Sam made him move to another machine, on the other side of the casino, but still the angel won. "Castiel, are you using your grace?"

"No, Sam, I'm just having fun as a human."

Another machine and still Castiel was winning. Sam was convinced that maybe Castiel **was** using his grace, but on an unconscious level. And being he wasn't much of a gambler, he was growing bored. "Castiel, maybe we should play something else?"

"That is acceptable." 

They exchanged the quarters for chips and moved on to the roulette wheel, where Castiel proceeded to win almost three thousand dollars in ten minutes. 

Sam smiled nervously at the two pit bosses that approached. "Uh, time to lose."

"Why?" Castiel asked.

"Because I like my teeth where they are, thank you very much." Sam placed three stacks of chips on numbers at random, losing half of the money Castiel had just won - the pit bosses stepped back. He noticed Dean at the craps table, looking frustrated. "How about we take the rest of our winnings and go watch Dean."

Castiel did as he was told, moving to Dean's side. "What is this game?"

"Oh, so **now** you show up?" Dean groused. "When I'm down to my last ten bucks?"

"If you don't want him," a busty brunette leered at Castiel, "I'll take him." She reached for him but Sam batted her hand away.

"He's already taken," Sam said sweetly. 

"I'm into threesomes." She looked Castiel over. "Are you?"

"Yes." Castiel lit up, grinning from ear to ear. "I am quite knowledgeable and have years of experience." He stared at her chest. "And you have lovely...."

"Grace, Cas, grace!" Dean screamed. 

"Shut up, Dean!" Sam hissed.

"You will have to excuse me," Castiel told the redhead. "He needs me to utilize my grace." 

"Grace?" she asked.

"He's our good luck charm," Sam said quickly.

And Castiel was good luck indeed. 

Dean quickly turned his last ten dollars into almost five thousand, but Sam noticed the people staring at Dean and gathered his winnings, moving away from the craps table. 

"Sammy...."

"Dean, you can't keep winning like that. The casinos get kind of suspicious."

"Oh, right," Dean nodded. "Let's play BlackJack."

The BlackJack table netted them eight grand, followed by the dollar slots, which had them at a little bit more than twenty.

"That's enough, Dean," Sam warned him. "Anymore and we're going to get the shit beaten out of us." Once again Sam casually smiled at the pit bosses as he dragged Dean to the cashier's window.

Dean was thrilled. Three hours in the casino and he was leaving with $22,348. "My baby is getting all new parts, and Sam, you and me are eating steaks forever."

"Dean, maybe we could have taken a check, or had it direct deposited somewhere." Sam was antsy. "I don't like carrying that kind of cash."

"Sammy, we kill demons for a living, we have an actual in-the-flesh angel beside us, we prevented the apocalypse, defeated Lucifer himself," Dean rolled his eyes, "and you're worried about a mugger?" 

They walked toward the parking lot and on the way passed a nun who was collecting funds.

Dean stopped and gave her two hundred. 

The nun thanked him. "This will help the children very much."

Dean paused. "Children?"

"Yes. Saint Michael's is not only the church, but it also has an orphanage."

"Orphanage?" Dean swallowed hard. "How many kids?"

She smiled. "We have fifteen, and your donation will feed them all for a good week, possibly more, if I can stretch it out."

"A week? That's it?"

"With the cost of food these days, it's hard."

"Yeah, okay." Dean smiled back and continued toward the car.

"Dean...." Sam started.

"No, I'm not going to do it." Dean held the satchel close. "It's mine, all mine."

"Kids, Dean," Sam almost whispered.

Dean glared at Castiel. "You set this up, didn't you?"

"I did not," Castiel replied. At the continued glare, he added, "I don't lie Dean; you know that to be true."

"Hungry kids," Sam continued. "Kids with no homes, no families, no...."

"You will earn a higher place in Heaven for being charitable, Dean," Castiel smiled and nodded.

"How about I keep it," Dean gave him a maniacal smirk, "and at the end, go back to Hell?"

Sam and Castiel both frowned at him. 

"Fine, but I'm keeping two grand."

"For what?" Sam asked.

" _Captain Incredible_ ," Dean nodded to Castiel, "can't use his magic to get us a room, and I'm not staying in the Holiday Inn the whole time we're here. I want room service and a bar." He counted out what he needed and walked over to the nun, handing her the rest.

She thanked him and opened it, gawking at the cash. "I will most definitely add you to my prayers, young man."

"Whatever." Dean turned around, but then turned back. "You know what, when you're saying those prayers, put in a good word for Castiel."

"Thursday's Angel?"

Dean just grinned. "Tell God that Castiel is...with Dean and Sam."

She eyed him strangely. "I don't understand you."

"Look Sister, I just gave you 20 grand. For that amount of money, you can relay the message."

"To tell God that one of his angels is with Dean and Sam?"

"Exactly, but be sure to mention Castiel by name." 

"If that's what you want...."

"That's exactly what I want." As Dean left, he murmured, "And if we're lucky, he'll be paying attention to you." He decided that if Castiel got into any trouble with his superiors, he would get the angel out of it. He didn't know how, but he would.

"You did a good thing, Dean," Sam grinned. 

"Yeah, well don't go getting any ideas," Dean shot back. "I'm still a selfish, ungrateful bastard, no matter what good deeds I perform."

**~~~~~~~~**

They got back to the motel and Dean was all prepared to check out; he didn't care what time it was. He was only in the bathroom for 10 minutes, but by the time he was done, Castiel was fast asleep on one bed, and Sam was half-asleep in the other. 

"I may not be going back to Hell, but that's where my sex-life is going." Dean got undressed and slid in next to Sam, sliding a hand between his legs. "Sammy-baby...." he whispered.

"I'm tired, Dean," Sam whispered back.

"Okay." Dean kissed him softly. "I guess I still love you."

Sam cracked his eyes opened and smiled. "Me too."

**~~~~~~~~**

They slept until almost two, and Dean was getting antsy about checking out of the Holiday Inn.

"I don't know why we have to check out, Dean," Sam sighed. "That bed was comfortable."

"I told you, Sam, we are staying at a nice place for a change." Dean pointed to the laptop screen. "We're checking into the Sheraton."

"I want breakfast," Castiel pouted.

"We'll get room service, how's that?"

Castiel nodded his assent. "That is acceptable."

The room they got at the Sheraton was large, with two King size beds and a huge flat screen TV. 

Dean made himself at home on one of the beds, called room service, flicked on the TV and immediately found a football game, while Sam unpacked and Castiel walked out onto the balcony. 

"This view is amazing," Castiel grinned, looking out over the city skyline.

"Don't tell me," Sam was smiling as he joined Castiel, "it reminds you of somewhere long ago and far away."

"No, Sam, this view is one-of-a-kind." Castiel turned to face him. "I had a good time in the casino, it was fun."

"You don't get to have fun, do you, Castiel?" Sam asked. "Angels don't get any time off, do they?"

"Once we did, Sam; once we were...allowed...to walk the Earth, to do pretty much as we pleased as long as we kept our existence secret. But times changed." Castiel lowered his eyes. "My freedom was...taken away and I missed it."

"That's why you left."

"Partially. It was Jimmy who suggested I try to live **my** life to the fullest." Castiel raised his eyes to Sam, that same empty look within that Sam had seen at Bobby's. 

"I know you miss him, Castiel." Sam pulled Castiel into his arms, hoping to give some sort of comfort. 

Castiel tilted his head up, leaned forward and captured Sam's lips. 

Sam kissed back, his fingers threading in Castiel's hair, devouring his mouth in hunger - the angel was like a drug. He backed Castiel up against the wall, nuzzling his neck, undoing Castiel's pants while Castiel undid his. "Shoes, Cas."

Castiel understood, kicking off his as Sam did the same, pants dropping, kicked aside. Underwear followed, then a brief parting of lips so shirts could be removed. Castiel kissed his way to Sam's neck, across to his right shoulder, across to his chest where he made love to Sam's nipples with his teeth and tongue. As he dropped to his knees he placed bites along Sam's torso, tonguing his navel, hearing the soft giggling. Castiel reached Sam's dick and saw his right hand move; he grabbed it, then the left, leering up at Sam and shaking his head. 

Sam nodded in silence. His dick was taken into Castiel's mouth slowly, almost methodically. One inch and Castiel pulled back, teasing the tip. Three inches and Castiel suckled the head. Halfway and when Castiel pulled back he blew hot breath along the length. "Please...." Castiel swallowed the length and Sam felt his legs buckle under him. He felt the scratch of denim against his bare flesh, the hands sliding around his chest, the fingertips teasing his nipples. 

"Come, Sam...." Dean moaned in his ear. 

Sam's head fell back onto Dean's shoulder as he came, wordless, silent, blindly turning his head for a kiss, which Dean was more than happy to give. 

"You okay, Sammy?" Sam nodded, and Dean practically held him upright, walking him inside. "This change your mind about threesomes?" Another nod and Dean smiled at the fact that his brother seemed to be unable to speak - that was a first. "You okay too, Castiel?" His voice trailed off when he saw Castiel wasn't there. "Don't move, Sam."

Sam was sitting on the bed and just stared up at Dean. "Huh?"

"Never mind." Dean peeked his head outside. "You coming inside, angel-boy?"

"No." Castiel's eyes moved down his body, hand wrapped around his cock, jerking himself off. 

Dean knelt beside him, "I guess we forgot about you," and took the hand away, using his own. He kissed the rim of Castiel's ear, whispering every filthy phrase that came to mind, adding, "You're beautiful," and "My angel," and "Mine always." 

The last words, along with Dean's soft sigh had Castiel coming hard, his vision blurring, wondering if he would pass out as he had that first time with Sam. 

"Castiel? You with me?"

Castiel's eyes fluttered for a moment, opening slowly. "Yes, but barely. And you didn't...." 

Dean's stomach growled. "I don't perform well with noisy interruptions."

Sam was coming out of the bathroom as they walked inside, wearing the goofiest grin and he licked his lips as his eyes raked up and down Dean's body. 

"Oh no, Sammy, food will be here shortly and I'm hungry." Dean ducked under Sam's arms as he went into the bathroom to wash his hands, Castiel doing the same afterwards. "Get some clothes on." 

As if on cue, there was a knock at the door and a voice saying, "Room Service!"

Dean waited until the other two had pants on and opened the door.

The waiter set out the trays, faced the men and grinned at Castiel. "Joey!"

"Do I know you?" Castiel asked.

"It's me, Leon!"

"I do not know you, and my name is Ca..." Castiel paused, "...Jimmy...Jimmy Novak." 

"No," Leon shook his head, "your name is Joey Novacelli and we used to work together at the Dunes, back in '97, before you hooked up with that blonde bimbo Barbie and went to work for Ropp." He did a doubletake. "Wait a sec, is Jimmy the new name you got? Did you go into that witness protection thing? And what the fuck are you doing back in Vegas?"

"Uh, he had an accident a couple of years back," Sam said quickly. "Head trauma."

"And amnesia," Dean added.

"That would explain how he had the balls to come back here." Leon chuckled. "Don't worry, man, I won't say a word, I never saw you, and I don't know you. But it sure as shit is good to see you!" He took a breath. "And Joey...or Jimmy...whoever...try not to get yourself killed again, okay? One funeral was enough."

Once he was gone, Dean turned to Castiel. "Time to spill your guts, Thursday. Who is Joey Novacelli and why would he be in witness protection?"

"I haven't a clue." Castiel was genuinely confused. "It may have to do with Jimmy's past. Being he is no longer with me, I don't have all his memories. Bits and pieces of his life are all that is left."

"Dean, these stuffed mushrooms are delicious." Sam smacked his lips together. "It's real crabmeat."

"How could you eat?" Dean shook his head. "We don't know who **he** ," he pointed at Castiel, "really is, and you don't seem to care."

"He's Castiel, an angel of the lord," Sam smirked, "the one who gripped you tight and raised you from Perdition. And I'm hungry."

"What is this, Sam?" Castiel asked, looking over a tray.

"I think those are chicken croquettes." Sam ate one. "Yep."

"You are no longer hungry, Dean?" Castiel asked before stuffing a croquette in his mouth and moaning in pleasure at the taste.

"I have to make a phone call." Dean walked outside to the balcony, and found the number he never thought he'd be using. It rang a few times, and he was about to hang up, when the phone was answered. "Amelia?"

"Who is this?"

"It's, uh, Dean Winchester."

She was far from friendly. "What do you want?" 

"We need your help."

"You need my help?! You take my husband, Claire's father, away from us, and you are asking for my help?!"

"What do you know about a Joey and Barbie Novacelli?"

"Where did you hear those names?" The shock was evident in her voice. "The FBI won't be able to protect us." She began to sob. "I'll have to uproot Claire and move her again...."

"Who cares about the FBI?!" Dean snapped at her. "And nobody can harm you or Claire."

"Nobody will be able to protect us."

"Protect you? I don't know what you're talking about, but you're protected by a higher power then the FBI."

"Higher power?"

"You got angels on your shoulder, honey!" Dean calmed himself. "Just tell me everything you know about these people...."

**~~~~~~~~**

Dean came back inside, narrowing his eyes at Castiel. "Okay, here's what she told me...." He took a deep breath. "Before he was Jimmy Novak, he was Joseph James Novacelli, and yeah, he **was** an accountant," another pause, "here in Vegas...for Stanley Ropp."

Sam spit his food out. "The mob?"

"Mob of what?" Castiel asked. 

Dean ignored him and continued. "According to dear Barbie, aka Amelia, Joseph turned state's evidence. Ropp was acquitted, so to protect them after his testimony, the Fed's gave them new identities. But before he left, Joey Novacelli **also** absconded with some money."

"How much?" Sam asked, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"Oh, somewhere around two million bucks," Dean added. 

Sam dropped his fork. "Two mill...of mob money?"

"Would you please explain this to me?" Castiel asked.

"You do it, Sam," Dean said. "Give him the Cliff Notes version."

By the time Sam was finished, Castiel's eyes were wider than saucers. "That is not possible; I could only have used the vessel of a righteous man."

"Maybe he was when you met him," Sam suggested, "maybe he, I don't know, repented." He turned back to Dean. "Where's the money?" 

"The answer to that is also the answer as to how Cas could use his body." Dean shrugged. "Jimmy thought that his wife gave it to various charities; that was how he **did** attempt to atone. But she stuck it in an offshore account, and she's been drawing on it for the past few years."

"Wait a second," Sam smiled at Castiel. "You said Anna was watching over her. Can't Amelia just call upon her to let your...Father...know where you are?"

"No," Castiel replied somberly. "Anna is Claire's guardian and she is here on Earth, working as the...nanny. And before you ask, she is different as she was reborn into a human body, and thus does not require a host. But for her to let anyone know where I am would require her to return home, and that would leave Claire unprotected."

"Maybe you should just suck it up and take your chances, like Bobby suggested," Dean said. 

"There are far worse punishments than the depths of Hell, Dean." 

"I don't think so, Cas. I was **there** , remember?"

Castiel looked around the room, gathering his thoughts before he focused back on the brothers. "My Father's wrath is not to be trifled with. From what little knowledge you have of the Bible, you are well aware of what He is capable of."

"What could be worse then Hell?" Sam asked.

Castiel took a deep breath. "Non-existence."

"We'll think of something else," Dean quickly said.

"Would now be a proper time to go to the bar?" Castiel asked them. "I think that it would."

"As long as you stay away from Jager Bombs...." The brothers said together.

"That will not be a problem," Castiel agreed.

**~~~~~~~~**

The hotel bar was nice enough, but it took Dean **and** Sam to pull Castiel away from the slot machines. The angel begged and pleaded to play, but received two resounding no's.

They took a booth and when the server came to take their orders, Dean and Sam ordered two shots of bourbon each.

Castiel smiled and asked, "What type of beer do you have on tap?"

"Michelob, Icehouse, Bud, Heineken."

"I will have a Budweiser," Castiel said, "with a whiskey chaser." He heard the "Ahem" from Sam, and again pulled a pout. "It is not a Jager Bomb."

"Bring him what he wants," Dean laughed, nodding to the server. "Don't be a spoilsport, Sam."

"How did you learn to order that?" Sam asked.

"I saw it on TV," Castiel explained, "and it sounded good."

"Let's just forget about everything for a little while," Dean suggested, and the other two didn't even attempt to argue with him.

The drinks were brought, they were downed, and Dean stood up, holding out his hand to Castiel. "Dance with me."

"Dance?"

"I like to dance."

"I cannot dance," Castiel stated.

"I think you can." Dean pulled him up. "It just takes the right song."

"Dean, nobody can dance to AC/DC." Sam rolled his eyes.

"I wasn't thinking of that, Sammy." Dean brought Castiel over to the old-fashioned jukebox and searched, finally finding what he was looking for. "This is the one, and it's a live version, too." He waited for the first couple of notes of _Patience_ to start, "Nothing like Guns N Roses," and walked Castiel onto the dance floor. "Close your eyes and just feel the music, Cas." 

Castiel nodded, yet still remained stiff as a board.

Dean moved behind him, hands on Castiel's hips and began to sway back and forth. It took the angel a moment, and then he was moving with Dean. "That's it, just like that." He laced their fingers together, keeping the movements slow, singing softly into his ear....

_"Shed a tear 'cause I'm missin' you_  
I'm still alright to smile  
I think about you every day now  
Was a time when I wasn't sure  
But you set my mind at ease  
There is no doubt  
You're in my heart now" 

Castiel tuned out everything but Dean's voice and as he turned in Dean's arms, he saw honesty in Dean's eyes, and there was no doubt Dean cared deeply for him, that Dean loved him. 

_"....take it slow_  
It'll work itself out fine  
All we need is just a little patience  
Said, sugar, make it slow  
And we come together fine  
All we need is just a little patience" 

Dean's voice was so soothing, and Castiel wasn't sure what to do, so he rested his head upon Dean's shoulder - apparently that was the right thing to do.

_"I sit here on the stairs_  
'Cause I'd rather be alone  
If I can't have you right now  
I'll wait, dear  
Sometimes I get so tense  
But I can't speed up the time  
But you know, love  
There's one more thing to consider" 

Dean kissed the top of his head, softly sighing, continuing to sway with him, and continuing to sing....

_"....just take it slow_  
And things will be just fine  
You and I'll just use a little patience  
Said, sugar, take the time  
'Cause the lights are shining bright  
You and I've got what it takes  
To make it,   
We won't fake it,  
I'll never break it  
'Cause I can't take it" 

Castiel slid his hands around Dean's waist, he was moving quite smoothly now, yet he kept his head down. 

_"Just a little patience"_ Dean tongued the rim of his ear. 

_"Need a little patience"_ He tilted Castiel's face up. 

_"Just a little patience"_ Dean placed a chaste kiss to his lips, then lay Castiel's head back down, stroking his hair almost reverently....

_"I been walking these streets at night_  
Just trying to get it right   
It's hard to see with so many around  
You know I don't like being stuck in a crowd   
And the streets don't change but maybe the name  
I ain't got time for the game  
'Cause I need you  
Yeah, yeah, I need you...." 

The song ended, and Dean attempted to move, but Castiel wasn't letting go of him. "What's the matter?"

Castiel smiled at him. "For the first time, absolutely nothing."

Sam was at the jukebox next, picked a song and moved onto the dance floor. "I'm cutting in." He grinned at Castiel. "I don't like slow-dancing too much." 

"You dance?" Dean asked, surprised; he didn't remember Sam ever dancing. "Since when?"

"Since a while now," Sam smirked, "and I like Axl too."

Castiel smiled shyly. "Are you going to sing to me also, Sam?"

"I don't sing, Castiel." As the opening riff of _Paradise City_ begin to blare, Sam slid one hand behind Castiel's head, the other at the base of his back, and dipped him backwards, giving him a deep, tonsil-sucking kiss. He then pulled Castiel up and groped his ass, grinding his crotch forward. He dipped him again, holding him, and gave him another kiss.

Castiel was, in turn, trying to match every movement Sam made, from the groping to the grinding to the kissing. The kisses were sloppy, with wide-open mouths, like they were feeding from each other. Castiel tilted his head back so Sam had access to his neck and looked giddy as Sam nipped at the pulse point. His eyes slid shut and his mouth dropped open as Sam sucked hard and left a clear purple bruise.

Sam grabbed Castiel by the hair and kissed him hard again. He slid one leg between Castiel's, while one hand found its way down the back of Castiel's pants. He was humping himself against Castiel's leg, and the angel was getting into it.

Castiel was not remaining passive as he had been with Dean. With Sam, something went off inside of him, like an explosion of lust. His hands went under Sam's shirt and he was returning the kisses with a fervor. He rested his crotch against Sam's leg, rubbing himself against it, as Sam slid his other hand under Castiel's shirt, raking his nails down Castiel's back. 

As their lips pulled apart for a moment they both had a feral look in their eyes, both vying for control of the moment. 

Dean was staring at them, and whereas he had slow danced romantically with Castiel, it was positively obscene the way Sam was dancing with him - they were doing everything **but** fucking on the dance floor. And Dean's cock was hard as titanium.

As the song went on, Sam and Castiel both had their hands down the other's pants, up each other's shirts, dry-humping, and yeah, the wet and filthy kissing continued.

Dean began to wonder if he was going to have an orgasm while watching them.

Sam backed Castiel toward the booth, pushed him down across the seat, and Dean's eyes went wide. No way was Sam going to...oh yeah, that was exactly what Sam was doing. He was rutting against Castiel like a dog in heat, and Castiel's moans were heard above the music. 

The song stopped, but Sam and Castiel didn't.

It was only the applause and catcalls that caused Dean to physically pull Sam up, blinking at him. "Are you insane?!"

"It's Las Vegas, Dean, and I don't think anybody cared."

"What happened to Sam ' _I'm a nice guy who doesn't do kinky shit in public_ ' Winchester?"

"He's on sabbatical while we're here," Sam grinned. 

Castiel sat up. "May we have another dance, Sam?"

"NO!" Dean snapped at him. "That's enough for one night." He glared at them. "We're gonna...shoot darts, how's that?" Dean received two pouts and ignored them both. "Darts or bed, and by bed I mean sleep."

"Darts it is!" Sam headed across the room.

"He is a wonderful dancer, Dean," Castiel sighed. 

"I'm a good dancer, too," Dean replied quietly.

"Yes," Castiel nodded, "you are."

As Castiel followed Sam, Dean looked downcast. "I really am," he said to himself. 

**~~~~~~~~**

It just so happened that Albert and Martin took that moment to enter that very bar, having been on a search for Joe Novacelli. 

"I don't believe it!" Martin exclaimed. "Is our luck changing?"

"Let's take care of him," Albert said, wincing from the pain in his ribs. "I don't feel like telling the boss that we messed up again." He pulled out his knife, and with a finesse earned from years of experience, threw it. 

The dart board was a bit crooked and Castiel pulled it down to fix it. As he turned he hit the knife with it, causing the blade to embed itself in the wall. After he hung the board back up, he noticed the knife and stared for a moment before removing it. "I will bless this and make it appropriate for slaying demons." He put it in his back pocket and went to stand beside Sam, watching him.

"That was my lucky knife," Albert sneered. He pulled out his gun, but Martin stopped him. 

"Not here." Martin shook his head. "We wait until they leave and follow them."

"Who do you think the other guys are?" Albert asked, pointing to Dean and Sam.

"I don't care," Martin told him. "They get in our way, we take care of them also."

They took a seat, watching the three.

**~~~~~~~~**

"No, Castiel," Sam was laughing, "not like that." He stood behind Castiel, one arm around his waist, the other holding Castiel's arm. "You have to go slowly, ease back and forth, and when the moment is right, you just do it."

"You sound like you are talking about sex." Castiel smirked at him. 

"I'm going back to the room," Dean huffed, a frown on his face. "You stay here and play with him for the rest of the night. Maybe have another fucking dance!"

"Is Dean angry, Sam?" Castiel asked, staring after him.

"I don't know, but I'm going to find out." Sam ran after Dean, concerned about his brother's mood shift.

Castiel shot two more darts and then headed upstairs.

The two thugs got up to follow, but Castiel tripped over a bottle on the floor, and braced his fall against the bar. A man who suddenly stopped to gape at the angel's taut ass caused a server to walk into him, which sent her entire tray of drinks out of her arms and right into Albert and Martin.

Martin slid on the floor and fell on his ass, and Albert fell as he tried to help his partner up.

By the time the two managed to stand, Castiel was nowhere to be seen.

"How are we going to find him now?" Martin growled.

"Front desk," Albert told him, "The other guys are Dean and Sam and I have an idea."

"We're going to go through every guest? That'll take forever."

"Not with a computer; we can do a search in the system by first names. You just distract the clerk for a couple of minutes and I'll get the information. And then we wait until they are relaxed in their room...."

**~~~~~~~~**

Sam found Dean out on the balcony, gripping the edge tightly, clearly angered by something.

"Dean, please talk to me." Sam was growing upset at his brother's silence. "What did I do?"

"May I be of assistance?" Castiel asked as he joined them.

"Haven't you done enough?" Dean snarled at him. 

Castiel shirked back. "I did nothing."

"Nothing, huh? You didn't want a second dance with me, did you?" Dean turned away. "Yeah, Sam's a wonderful dancer."

"I only meant that it was different with Sam than with you," Castiel clarified. "I enjoyed dancing with both of you."

"He doesn't lie, Dean." Sam smiled. "Remember?"

"If you don't want me to dance with Sam, I won't do it again," Castiel told him. "I won't do **anything** with Sam if you don't want me to."

Dean knew good and well he was referring to sex, and so did Sam. "Dean, there's no reason to be jealous."

"I don't do jealous," Dean growled.

"Yeah, you do," Sam nodded. "And you're cute when you're like that, too."

"You never danced with me!" Dean pursed his lips in anger.

"Dean, we've been... **us**...for a few days now; I didn't get the chance." Sam stood behind him, resting his head on Dean's shoulder. "I'll dance with you anytime."

"In public?" Dean asked, biting his lower lip. 

"Anytime and anyplace you want." Sam turned him around and stole a kiss. "I love you, and just remember, you didn't dance with me either."

"I love you also, Dean," Castiel smiled in an ' _aww shucks_ ' kind of way. "And Sam, too. I will not play favorites."

"You see, Dean, nothing to be jealous about."

"I will...disappear for a short while," Castiel told them both, "so that you may reconcile your differences." He went back inside and walked toward the door.

"You don't have to go, Castiel," Dean said, as they followed him in. 

"I know," Castiel replied, "but I should, if only for a little while. Would an hour be sufficient?"

"Don't get lost," Dean said, "and stay out of trouble."

Castiel laughed a little, opened the door, and froze. "Dean, I think we may have a problem."

"What?" Dean stood up and joined Castiel at the door. "Friends of yours?"

"I believe they may be friends of Jimmy's." 

Castiel and Dean backed up, and Sam saw why: two men were standing there pointing guns at them. 

"They're holding guns and that means they're not demons, Dean, so I'm not concerned." Sam flipped through the TV guide. "There's a new episode of _True Blood_ tonight."

"I don't care." Dean rolled his eyes. "Let me know when _Dexter_ comes on." He lay down on the bed and turned on the TV. "Look, Sam, _Leverage_!"

"Ooh, I just love Tim Hutton; he is so cool."

"Nah," Dean sneered, "Chris Kane."

They smirked at each other. "ALDIS!"

Albert put his gun to Dean's head. "How would you like me to send you to Hell?"

Dean just shrugged, totally uncaring. "Been there, done that, got the tee-shirt to prove it."

"I say we kill them now," Martin cocked his .45, "save me the trouble later."

"Shut up, would you!" Dean snapped at them. "Have a little respect. Beth Riesgraf is stripping."

"Why don't we just kill Joey and get things over and done with," Martin sighed.

"Because Mister Ropp wants to see him in person." Albert walked over to Castiel and hit him over the head with the butt of the gun; Castiel went down and received a kick in the head. "Now, why don't you boys behave and help us get Joey downstairs and maybe you'll get to say goodbye to him later."

Dean and Sam nodded to each other and did as they were told. 

**~~~~~~~~**

The brothers were brought into a semi-dark room and they looked around, getting their bearings.

Dean saw the ropes. "What, no handcuffs? Damn!" He was quickly tied up. "The least you could do is buy me dinner first. And if you want to spank me, it'll cost you a cheesecake."

Sam saw the older man walking in. "I know you!" He got excited. "You're Stanley Ropp! I saw your photo in the paper!"

Dean glanced over. "Can I have your autograph?"

Martin punched him in the mouth.

Dean ran his tongue through his mouth, spitting out blood. "Great, I think you knocked out the tooth that I got back when I returned from the dead."

"Christo." Sam stared at Ropp. "Nope, human." 

"Of course they're human, Sammy." Dean chuckled nervously. "Demons would be choking you by now."

Sam just smirked. "So, anybody here watch _Leverage_? It's a cool show." His legs were knocked out from under him and he dropped to his knees. "Not Tim Hutton or Christian Kane fans, huh?" They pulled him to his feet and tied his hands behind his back. "What about _Dexter_?" He received a few punches in the ribs but stayed on his feet. "I guess not." A one-two punch to his kidneys and Sam groaned and went down again.

They brought Castiel in and he had been pummeled. There was blood all over his face, his left eye was swollen shut, and his upper body, which was shirtless, showed patches of bruises. 

The angel managed to give a wan smile to the brothers. "I think I need band-aids."

"Where's my money, Joey?" Ropp asked, and when he didn't get an immediate answer Castiel got another punch in the ribs. 

"I do not know!" Castiel spat out.

"Wrong answer." Castiel was hit in the face, his right eye clearly beginning to swell.

"He was in an accident," Sam tried to explain, "he had a major head wound and doesn't remember anything about his past." Sam was hit again, blood dripping from his nose.

"Leave him alone," Castiel gasped out. "He doesn't know anything."

"Maybe this'll help him remember." Albert ran his knife along Sam's throat and pricked the skin. "Next slice is gonna be a little bigger."

"Kinda brave with us tied up," Dean taunted. "You afraid to take me on without the ropes?"

"Untie him," Albert ordered Martin.

Dean's ropes were cut, but before he could stand, Albert grabbed his left arm and twisted it, hearing the bone snap; all Dean did was grit his teeth. "I was tortured in Hell you asshole; nothing you can do compares to that." He charged into Albert, ignoring the pain and swung out with his right fist, connecting to Albert's jaw. He swung around and knocked Martin off his feet, kicking him in the face, grabbed his gun and pointed it at Ropp. "Untie my brother." 

Ropp didn't move and got a bullet in the shoulder. 

"Do it now," Dean warned, "or the next one goes between your legs."

Sam was untied and winced at the pain in his ribs. "At least three broken."

"You have done harm to those I am guardian to." Castiel's face contorted and darkened into a frightening visage. "My wrath is not something to be reckoned with." There was a slight tremor beneath their feet and for a moment, Dean could have sworn Castiel's eyes went stark white.

"CAS, NO!" Dean screamed. "You're not...working properly. You could take down the building." He faced Martin and Albert. "Your turn to visit Hell."

"Dean, don't," Sam whispered. "You can't kill an innocent; you know that." He forced a laugh. "Rule number 27B of Pastor Jim's."

"They're not innocent, Sammy."

"But they're not demons either," Sam added. "Let's just get out of here now. Please?"

Dean cold cocked them all and he and Sam dragged them into a storage closet, and between them they got Castiel to his feet. Despite his words and actions, Castiel was barely conscious.

"If you still had your grace, why did you allow this to happen, Cas?" Dean asked.

"I did not know I had any grace left within me, until I saw...." He passed out.

They made it to the parking garage and Dean hotwired the first car they found. 

Sam got in the back, laying Castiel's head in his lap. "We need a hospital, Dean, he's in bad shape."

"Not a hospital, Sam. I've had enough of this shit."

"Dean, we all need medical attention."

Dean just shook his head and drove for a few miles, finally finding what he was looking for.

**~~~~~~~~**

The priest eyed them strangely: A tall man who looked like his face was shoved into a meat grinder, a shorter man in a blood-covered shirt with the bone protruding from his arm, and they were supporting another man, who appeared to be in worse shape, between them. He approached them with some caution and asked, "May I help you?"

"No," Dean flat out told him, as he and Sam lay Castiel down. 

Sam looked up, wiping away a couple of tears. "Please help him. It wasn't his fault." He knelt down and used his sleeve to clean some of the blood from Castiel's face. "He needs you."

Dean wasn't as nice and he was clearly pissed off. "YOU COME AND FIX HIM AND YOU DO IT NOW DAMMIT!"

"You should have called sooner," Anna said, appearing out of nowhere. "He's a mess."

"And we're not?" Dean stared at her.

Sam looked up at her. "What about Claire and Amelia?"

"Our Father is watching over Amelia and Claire; they are safe." She moved toward Castiel, but Dean stood between them.

"If he's gonna be flash-fried and sent off to non-existence land," Dean told her, "then you can forget about it. Me and Sam, we'll patch him up, make him good as new."

"Non-existence?" Anna sighed. "I think you've been watching too much television."

"Castiel told us since he left without a human conscience, he risked punishment," Sam explained, "and that punishment would be non-existence."

"My brother misunderstood the rules, as usual," Anna laughed. "Angels can leave Heaven by themselves; they just aren't **supposed** to do so in a host's body."

"But will he be in trouble?" Sam asked, voice going up a few octaves; he was frightened by the prospect of anything happening to Castiel.

"No more so than usual," she told him, kneeling beside Castiel, touching his chest. "He's one of our Father's favorites; he was the first angel who ever smiled, who ever laughed, whoever played a mischievous prank."

"Prank?" Dean was very curious. "Somehow he just doesn't strike me as the pranking kind."

"That can be blamed on the two of you." Anna added a clear _tsk_. "Once the war ended, and things went back to some semblance of normalcy, they began."

"Us?" Sam asked, thinking for a moment as he turned to his brother. "Or Dean?"

"Let me put it to you this way, Sam." She giggled again. "Castiel introduced _Busty Asian Beauties_ to the Cherubs and arranged for the _Pearly Gates_ to play music when they opened."

"That doesn't sound so bad," Dean shrugged. 

"When you're entering Heaven," Anna bit back further laughter, " _Highway to Hell_ is not what you want to hear."

"You are so going back to **The Pit** , Dean," Sam told him, cracking a small smile.

"He changed it to _Stairway to Heaven_ after numerous complaints," she continued, "and Father deemed that acceptable."

"I still believe _Highway to Hell_ was better as it gave what is known as shock value." Castiel stood beside them now, looking fine; even his clothing was spotless. "Sam, you look terrible." He framed Sam's face in his palms and kissed him. By the time he pulled back, Sam didn't have a mark on him. He then touched Dean's arm and the bone reset itself.

Dean flexed his arm and nodded in thanks, but had to add in his usual flippant tone, "What about my shirt?" 

Castiel smirked. "I do not do laundry, Dean." He placed his hand on Dean's chest. "Not as a norm." His hand brushed down Dean's chest, all remnants of the blood gone. 

"I guess you'll be leaving now," Sam frowned in sadness.

Castiel tilted his head as if listening to someone. "It appears I have been granted 'time off' for," he looked a bit surprised, "good behavior." He placed his arm around Sam's shoulders, the two walking toward the doors. "First we dine on pancakes; I believe they are served 24 hours a day. And afterwards, we wll pay a visit to Stanley Ropp and his associates." He gave Sam an evil smirk. "I shall put the fear of God into them and make them confess their sins to the authorities."

"And then?" Sam asked.

"I believe I owe Robert a new television." Castiel thought about it. "Do you think an 80-inch LCD picture-in-picture flat screen, with TiVo and a DVR, plus a full Bose speaker system, would be acceptable?"

"Yeah," Sam nodded, "I think that would be just fine."

"You're welcome, Castiel," Anna called after him.

"Whatever," Castiel said back as he and Sam walked out.

"Being in your company is so **not** a good thing." She shook her head at Dean. "He's picking up quite an attitude."

"Yeah, sure, blame me for that also." 

"Why not?" Anna sighed. "You're a bad influence."

"I think that he was a loopy angel long before I ever met him."

"Maybe, but he's also a gentle soul, Dean," Anna said softly, "and as you have seen, he is also the most formidable. I believe the correct phrase is, 'Don't make him angry; you wouldn't like him when he's angry.'"

"He's also overly hormonal," Dean stated, and then realized she was gone, leaving Dean alone with the priest. "Uh, we're doing a movie and...um...special effects and, er...."

The priest blinked and smiled at him. "Is there something I can do for you?"

It took Dean a moment to realize the priest didn't remember anything. "Nope, just popped in to, uh, say," he looked up, "thanks."

"As the saying goes, the Lord works in mysterious ways."

"That he does, Father," Dean nodded, "that he does."

**~~~~~~~~**

Dean exited the church expecting his brother and his angel to be waiting, but they were gone. "I've been abandoned." Dean couldn't help smiling; contrary to the impression he gave, Sam was never the most sociable of people, and if he and Castiel were off doing whatever, that was fine with him. Dean returned to the hotel but stopped in the restaurant for a cup of coffee and a piece of pie. He got back to the room, but neither Sam nor Castiel were there yet. He dozed off for a little while and when he woke up, he was still alone. Turning on the TV, Dean saw a breaking news brief that crime boss Stanley Ropp and his numerous associates had entered the Las Vegas PD and given full confessions to a lengthy list of crimes, including the murder of one Joseph James Novacelli and his family. "Way to go," he smirked, glancing over as the door opened. "I see Ropp and company are getting what they deserved. But what if they talk about angels?"

"They have been warned what will happen if they do," Castiel explained. "None of them will say a word."

"Castiel had to be truthful," Sam told him, "and if they **genuinely** repent and atone in their hearts and souls, they will not spend eternity burning in Hell."

"So I guess God will forgive anything, huh?" Dean laughed. 

"He forgives **you** , Dean," Castiel said, "no matter how many times you mock him, slander him, and drag his name through the proverbial mud in a blasphemous manner."

"Yeah, but I'm special."

"Yes, Dean," Castiel nodded, "of course, Dean, whatever you say, Dean."

"Smartass angel," Dean muttered.

"I must now make a side trip to South Dakota to make peace with Robert, in the form of a state-of-the-art entertainment system, but I shall return to make your lives more pleasant." Castiel waggled his eyebrows at them. "It's what I do." He disappeared, but left behind a plate of cookies.

"I told him I liked oatmeal raisin." Sam ate one. "Good too."

"You left me." Dean approached Sam, and Sam backed up. "You took off with **my** angel." He took two strides forward; Sam took one step back and fell on the bed. 

"He's **our** angel," Sam corrected, kicking off his sneakers and pulling off his shirt at the same time. "Let me make it up to you." He stood up, looking down at Dean. "Get undressed, Dean."

"No." Dean glanced up. "And if you think that height of yours is going to intimidate me, think again."

" **Please** get undressed?" Sam pouted, nearly tripping as he got out of his own pants. 

"Not that face," Dean whined. 

Sam stuck his lower lip out. "You don't love me."

"I concede, I concede." Dean unbuttoned his shirt. "Just stop with the friggin' face." His shirt dropped to the floor and he sat down, lifting one foot. "Take my boots off or the pants go nowhere."

"The things I do for you." Sam grunted as he pulled off the right boot. "I know we're never exactly rolling in money, Dean," the left one was yanked off, "but buy some boots in the right size next time."

"These were on sale and they only had one size left." 

"Switch to sneakers."

"Not good for my hard-ass rep, Sammy." Dean stood up and undid his pants, but Sam pushed him onto his back. 

Sam reached for Dean's pants and rolled his eyes as he tried to get them off. "What'd you do? Spray them on?!"

Dean lifted his hips and pushed them, and his underwear, down. "You need to take vitamins." He shifted back, watching as Sam dropped his own boxers and crawled between his legs. 

"Pretty cock...pretty man." Sam didn't waste a moment. He took Dean all the way down his throat, sucking hard, feeding. He gripped Dean's ass, stared into Dean's eyes and swallowed his cock even deeper. Shifting around without stopping, his own dripping dick was hanging above Dean's mouth and he slowly lowered it, Dean raising his head to taste. Pulling up, Sam teased and purposely inched back each time Dean reached for it again. 

"Sammy, please...."

Sam dropped down, letting Dean suck him, fucking Dean's mouth while Dean fucked his. They shoved fingers inside one another - one, two, three - each wanting to bring the other off first. Sam pulled his mouth up at the same time he took his dick from Dean, who was leaning up, wanting more. He shifted back around, hooking Dean's legs in his arms, baring Dean's ass to him. "I don't have lube, Dean."

Dean could only manage a moaned, "Fuck me...please...please...." He opened as Sam slid inside, dragging the thickness deep, clenching his muscles to draw Sam all the way in. "FUCK ME!"

Sam just grinned at him. "Doing the best I can, Dean." He grabbed Dean's cock and jerked him hard. "Yeah...oh yeah, Dean...come for me...do it."

Dean shot streams all over them, his head pressing back onto the pillow, thrusting up at Sam. "SAMMY!"

Sam pounded harder, pushing Dean's legs back so he could watch his dick slide in and out. "So good...fuck...God Dean...Y-Y-YES!" He came harder than ever, and he kept moving until he was soft and slid out. Sam let Dean's legs drop and he collapsed over his brother, head on Dean's chest, catching his breath. 

Dean stroked his hair, soothing Sam down from his orgasm, still trying to catch his own breath. "Sammy, baby, that was fucking amazing."

Sam tilted his head up, catching Dean's eyes. "I love you, Dean."

Dean drew him into a soft kiss. "And now I'm hungry again."

Sam giggled as he lifted himself up. "You say the most romantic post-orgasmic phrases."

"I told you I could do romance," Dean laughed. "Now all I have to do is move so I can get cleaned up."

"Will you get up if I buy you a steak dinner?"

"I love you too, Sam." 

They somehow managed to make it to the bathroom without molesting each other, got cleaned up, and got dressed. 

"Didn't you eat pancakes, Sammy?"

"Nope." Sam shook his head. "So I'm hungry too."

"As am I," Castiel said as he appeared in the room. 

Dean looked him over. "I thought you didn't have to eat?" 

"Apparently I do," Castiel said. "It has something to do with not having a human within me. But even if I did not have to, I would still find it pleasurable."

"What happened at Bobby's?" Sam asked.

"He was ecstatic over the new TV and gaming system and the state-of-the-art laptop."

"And....?" The brothers asked in unison.

"He was upset that I used my grace on his home."

"Oh God," Dean pinched the bridge of his nose, "what did you do?"

"I cleaned every nook and cranny, made all the trash disappear, gave him two extra rooms, repainted, provided him with brand new appliances, redecorated with furniture from the stores named IKEA and Pier 1 using pictures from a magazine, and repaired every car like new. But the man who dropped in was not happy with it, and when he left, Robert threatened to shoot me with rock salt." Castiel was clearly confused. "What is property tax and why would Robert's have tripled after my endeavors?"

"What else?" Sam asked.

"I rearranged his books, putting them in alphabetical order."

" **That** would have done it. And if you want to get back on his good side," Dean smirked, "give him Miss March and Miss April."

"Playboy Bunnies?" Castiel nodded quickly. "I can do that."

"You know about _Playboy_?" Sam's voice cracked.

"I brought more than _Busty Asian Beauties_ home after the war."

Sam buried his face in his hands. "We are so going to Hell - straight down, no reprieves, I just know it."

"Not before we eat dinner, Sam."

**~~~~~~~~**

Dinner was done, and when they returned to the room, Castiel had an odd look on his face.

"You have to leave, don't you?" Sam asked, already knowing the answer.

"I do," Castiel nodded sadly. "I must deal with the consequences of my actions."

"And you're sure you're not going to...you know...." Dean waved his hands about.

"No, Dean, I will not be erased, I assure you."

"As long as you're sure," Sam added, reaching for him and giving him a kiss. "You'll be back, right?"

"Of course he'll be back, Sammy." Dean grinned, spinning Castiel around and giving his own kiss. "He'd be bored without us." He leaned in for another but Castiel was already gone. "Pops in, pops out."

One minute later Castiel was back. 

"That was quick," Dean said.

"Time works different there then here and I was home for quite some time," Castiel explained. "I have been...grounded...until further notice." 

"What did you do **now**?" Dean asked. "And don't try to blame me for it."

"I don't think I want to know," Sam added, "and it probably **was** your fault, Dean."

"Father was a bit miffed that the Cherubs have been made aware of Las Vegas, Pay-Per-View porn and the wonders of pancakes." Castiel looked positively evil. "They are now insisting on slot machines, high-definition cable TV and their own IHOP. Eliahu, the greeter at the gates, thinks that all who pass on should have to throw the dice to see if they may enter or go...elsewhere." He narrowed his eyes and smirked. "And souls entering Heaven are now greeted with _Paradise City_."

"And you were grounded for that?" Dean snickered. "Kinda harsh."

"Yes, although knocking out six of Zachariah's teeth, giving him two black eyes, and breaking his nose may have added to my punishment." Castiel couldn't help but laugh. "It was worth it though."

"So you hurt his vessel." Dean rolled his eyes. "Big deal."

"He was still in it, Dean," Castiel happily nodded, "and felt every ache." As an afterthought, he added, "And angels cannot heal themselves from pain inflicted by other angels."

"So he wasn't sent...you know..." Sam pointed down, "...there, like Uriel?"

"Despite what he did to me, Zachariah did not try to bring about the apocalypse, so going to Hell was not an option. Anna suggested a different punishment - he has been sent to a place called _Chuck E. Cheese_." Castiel pondered that. "Do either one of you know of that place?"

"I'd rather go to _The Pit_ ," Dean shuddered.

"Likewise," Sam agreed.

"Do you have your grace?" Dean so wanted to know. "Because we're still in Vegas."

"I have been granted limited use." Castiel shrugged. "If I misuse what I have, it will be taken away and I will be wholly human."

Sam caught the look on Dean's face. "Don't even think it!"

A paper appeared in Castiel's hands. "There is a Supernatural convention in Reno, celebrating the new series of Chuck's books."

"A con in Reno?" Sam looked over the advertisement, hopping around like a five year old. "I wanna go."

"The _Gospel of Winchester_ has achieved a resurgence since the Prophet Chuck released the latest editions," Castiel explained. "More people are discovering the adventures of Dean and Sam."

"Yeah," Dean smiled, "I'm sure my return from Hell made 'em happy."

"And the fact that we kicked Lucifer's ass straight back there," Sam added.

"They love the angel Castiel," Castiel smirked. "He is quite popular, you know."

"Don't talk about yourself in the third person," Sam told him. 

"I still wanna get my hands on Sympatico." Dean sneered. "The bitch keeps wanking on me every chance she gets."

Castiel looked confused. "What is wanking?"

"She hates Dean," Sam explained. "She's a Sam-Girl."

"You still love me, right guys?" Dean nodded to them, looking hopeful. "Dean-lovers all the way?"

"I'm a...Dean-Girl, I mean, Dean-Boy." Sam kissed him.

"You too, Cas?" Dean asked.

"I like Dean and Sam," Castiel said, "but I am John Winchester's biggest fan."

Sam laughed. "I knew Dad had to have groupies out there."

"Let's get going," Dean told them. "We have a convention to crash."

**FIN**


End file.
